Morgana stood by the door, listening for any sounds that might tell her there was someone still on the other side. After nearly two weeks of inactivity and confinement she was determined to have some freedom and fresh air. Gwen had let slip that they were entertaining someone from a neighboring kingdom and everyone had extra duties as a result, so it seemed a natural opportunity for her to attempt a venture from her rooms.

She could not hear anything, but this did not mean much as the wood was so thick. Eventually she tried the door and was rewarded by its opening at once. Morgana stepped into the hallway.

One of Arthur's own knights straightened, startled, at her appearance. She stared for a moment too, trying to remember his name. Liam or Lionel, something like that...She'd thought the job of watching her quarters would have been foisted upon one of the ordinary sentries by now.

He looked tired.

She could use that to her advantage, possibly.

"My lady," he said, after a moment. Morgana was pleased by this continued nod to her past title and wondered if Arthur was responsible. Uther's men would have felt no compunction to call her so after the banishment.

Leon, that's his name.

"Can I be of assistance?" he added, before she had quite made up her mind how to proceed.

Morgana was a little sorry she had chosen that morning an unadorned tunic and practical trousers—the type of outfit she had worn for sword-fighting practice or riding out on unofficial rides—given that men were such visual creatures. Still, she sighed, tossing her braid of hair over her shoulder. "I would like some fresh air, some activity. It is dreadfully dull to be cooped up day after day. I only mean to go for a short walk."

The red-haired knight looked genuinely regretful. "I'm afraid that is not possible. The prince was very clear about his orders for you."

"Surely with everyone so busy, I could spend an hour unnoticed in one of the courtyards," Morgana cajoled, tilting her head to one side.

"I am sorry, my lady."

"Will you at least take me to the physician's chambers? I'm in need of some treatment, I couldn't sleep at all last night." This was only a slight embellishment of the truth since the valeriana Gwen was giving her was not nearly as strong as she would have preferred.

She could see Leon trying to decide if he should refuse, or perhaps volunteer to get it for her, but that would leave her unguarded and was clearly not the ideal alternative. While she waited, she contemplated pressing a hand to her head to suggest a headache, but perhaps that would be too much. She blinked ingenuously at him instead.

At last he relented, gesturing for her to come. Morgana was careful to walk slowly beside him (though she felt strong enough to stride and yearned to do so after the extended confinement.) As they went she tried to elicit some details from Leon as to Camelot's royal visitors but he was vague and noncommittal in his replies. It was a relief to run into Gaius himself not far from the old man's quarters.

"Ah, Morgana. I've been meaning to stop in to see you."

"And now I have spared you the trouble." She widened her eyes while glancing at Leon. Gaius took the hint, and stepped forwards to put a fatherly hand on her shoulder, guiding her towards his door as he told the knight, "You needn't worry, I'll return her to her chambers when we're through talking."

Morgana bestowed a reassuring smile upon Leon who didn't look entirely convinced but who eventually backed away, nodding at the physician.

Once inside, Gaius closed the door behind them. "You feel better lately, I think?" he said, surveying her with a practiced eye.

"Certainly I am well enough to be released from my bird cage," Morgana said, equal parts airily and sullenly. Despite herself her attention was caught by the odd mish-mash of objects strewn about the room. There was so much more to look at here than in her own quarters, which were free of anything to divert the eye, kept scrupulously tidy as they were by Gwen. She touched a book which lay nearby, running a finger along its dusty cover.

Gaius began to rummage through his medicine bag, murmuring something about supplies, but more as if making a mental note to himself than actually talking to her. Morgana wandered about, breathing in the scent of herbs suspended from the beams above. She stopped to gaze out the window which afforded a different view than the one from her rooms. It looked like a mild autumn afternoon.

Perfect for riding. Or for doing anything but being indoors.

The door opened again and Merlin came in. They met each others' eyes and after a pause, he closed the door.

"What's she doing here?" he asked of Gaius.

Gaius shrugged vaguely. "You can watch her for me," he said, slinging his bag over her shoulder.

"Wait, where are you going?" Merlin swung round as his mentor headed for the doorway. Morgana lingered, absolutely still by the window, unwilling to offer any discouragement as long as there was a possibility her independence was to be prolonged.

"I have duties," Gaius said. "Patients to see, many patients to see." He hummed as he exited.

Morgana watched Merlin carefully to gauge his mood. He was staring at the wall, then closing his eyes and putting a hand on the back of his neck the way he did when he was trying to find inner tolerance. Probably it would be better to be nice than aggressive. But she wanted to let him speak first. She played with the ends of her braid.

"What are you doing here," he said eventually, rewording his unanswered question of earlier.

"I came to see you," she said, looking up boldly. Surprised by the quickness of the lie. Surprised because...it wasn't a lie.

He looked surprised, too, and vulnerable for just a few seconds before he recovered. "Why would you do that?"

Morgana sighed, irritated by having to be personal. "Perhaps because you're the only person in Camelot I can bear to be around for more than a few minutes at a time."

That was as close as she was going to come to an admission of affection. She shoved the window defiantly shut.

He gave a tiny reluctant smile.

"Take me out of here," she said, sensing him weakening.

"I can't—"

"Just for a little while."

"Morgana—"

"I'll go mad, Merlin."

She said it quietly but with a passion that was unfeigned.

He put fingertips to his temples.

"You have to do what I say."

"I will," Morgana agreed promptly.

"I mean it."

"I know," she almost sang.

He held his breath for a few seconds. "Okay."

She couldn't hold back a radiant grin at the idea of leaving the castle even if only temporarily. With docility she followed him out of the rooms and down the corridor.

"Who is staying with us?" she asked, realizing that she still tended to identify with Camelot more often than not, but not especially bothered by it.

"Lord Bayard and his daughter and whatever guests they brought." Merlin halted, grabbing her hand and pulling her up short as they were about to join a larger hallway. The rumble of male voices and booted feet echoed beyond. After a few moments the sounds died and Merlin, still holding her hand, decided it was safe to proceed. But a variation of this event kept occurring and it was some time before they were able to slip unnoticed into an outer courtyard.

"Aren't you being overly cautious?" Morgana straightened, blinking with eyes unaccustomed to the lightness of the sky, even at this late hour of the day.

"You're not meant to be out of your rooms," he reminded her. "If anyone sees us, it's back there with double guards—and the stocks for me more than likely, which I would rather avoid, as fun as being pelted with rotten fruit is."

"But I might enjoy watching that."

The courtyard was partially sheltered from overhead views by a mass of vines creating a natural canopy, which would have been a profusion of bloom and greenery earlier in the season but which was brown and mostly bare now. Still it created the illusion of privacy. Morgana wandered along the length of the stone wall, idly assessing its potential for scaling. She was aware of Merlin trailing behind her, twisting overgrown vines out of the way. Aware also that he was scrutinizing her.

"What?" she asked, defensively.

He tilted his head to one side. "Do you always have to be looking for a way out?"

"Yes."

It felt strangely gratifying to be honest.

She rather thought that would silence him at least for a while but he persisted: "How are you—these days?"

"I don't sleep."

"I gave Gwen a remedy—"

"It doesn't work."

"Maybe it needs to be stronger."

"Maybe you need to be with me at night."

He looked embarrassed. "I, er, don't know if that's a...long-term solution..."

"Then teach me the spell you were using," Morgana said, undaunted.

Merlin shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and gazed at her with an expression of mute but obvious refusal. She hadn't really expected he would acquiesce, not so soon, but that was all right, she was determined to make him give in eventually.

"We should go back," he said at length, scanning the skies.

"Not just yet," she protested. "Let's sit for a while. I want to watch the sun set."

He appeared reluctant but nevertheless let her tug him down on a stone bench which faced westward and was flanked by two massive trees. They sat, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, without speaking. Morgana took possessive hold of Merlin's arm as if to anchor him to herself and the ground. His arm was unyielding at first but after a while she felt him begin to relax, and she smiled because being outside like this was both a gift and a victory.

For the past hour Arthur had been trying—unsuccessfully—to catch Guinevere's eye across the expanse of the crowded formal dining hall. It was possible she was avoiding coming too close to the main table where he and the other nobility sat, and he couldn't blame her for that; it wasn't as if, in such a public venue, they could have any kind of meaningful interaction in any case.

The hall was crowded, filled with the inevitable noise of a large number of guests simultaneously eating and communicating. To his right were Uther and Lord Bayard. Though they were conducting a polite conversation, Arthur could sense his father's tension: the peace treaty between the Camelot and Mercian kingdoms was an uneasy one, uncemented by friendship or even mutual respect.

Which was why Uther had been so insistent upon Arthur being attentive to Elaina.

He cast a sideways glance at the girl currently seated to his left, sipping daintily at her goblet of mead. It shouldn't have been a difficult assignment. She was pretty enough, fair-skinned and blue-eyed, and had responded with polite gravity to each of his attempts at conversation although she had not volunteered anything of her own accord. He wondered if there was nothing she was interested in, or possibly it was just that the lass would as much rather be somewhere else as he.

He sensed Uther's watchful gaze on his other side. Mindful of the debt he owed his parent, he summoned up a smile and addressed Bayard's daughter. "Perhaps, if the weather permits, you would like to ride out and see some of Camelot with me tomorrow, Lady Elaina."

"Thank you, that would be lovely," she replied without inflection.

Arthur wanted to tell her she didn't have to go if she didn't want to. But there was no way to say such without sounding like he was retracting the offer. He used his knife to push food around on his plate, looking up for Guinevere again once Uther's attention had drifted away from him, but she had disappeared.

Maybe it would rain.

With a heroic effort he dismissed the unchivalrous thought and applied himself to his dinner, despite his lack of appetite.